


A Fine Thread

by katling



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Implied Torture, Implied abuse, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, implied withdrawal, noncon kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 01:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5072359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Cullrian Prompt Saturday over at tumblr. anonymous asked: Dorian using time magic and ending up at the circle tower and witnessing Uldred’s take over.</p>
<p>As this deals with the takeover at Kinloch, obviously things get pretty grim. I've mostly kept things at the implied level but, well, they are there. But you do get a bit of fluff after your angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Fine Thread

Dorian isn’t _really_ researching the time magic again. After seeing the future Alexius nearly brought about, he can’t bring himself to seriously investigate it. This is more of a side line, some dabbling he does when he’s bored. He’s definitely bored now. Cullen has been called to Caer Bronach to deal with some sort of trouble there. He’s been gone for two weeks now and according to the letter he’d received earlier in the day, it’s going to be another two or three weeks before he can even _think_ about coming back.

So he’s been prodding at the research, playing with spells and runes and the half-finished amulet they’d found in Alexius’ effects to distract himself from the fact that his bed is empty of a certain blond Commander. The notes indicate Alexius had something different in mind for this particular amulet but Dorian hasn’t quite deciphered where he was going with it and frankly he’s enjoying the poking and prodding too much to be too worried about that. Right up until the point when he poked the amulet one time too many and it activated.

When the green light faded, he was… somewhere else. Definitely not Skyhold for all that he was surrounded by stone walls. This place was cold and dank and there was a feel of fear and resentment and the stench of blood in the air. Wherever this is, it’s not a good place. He looks down at the amulet in his hand and wonders if he can finesse his way out this one as easily as he did with Alexius’ first amulet.

He’s startled by the door opening and he whirls around to see Templars storm into the room. He summons his magic in an instant but then lets it go. The Templars are looking _right at him_ but it’s as though he’s invisible. He looks down at the amulet in his hand again and raises an eyebrow.

“Huh,” he says thoughtfully. “So that’s what it meant.”

He places the amulet around his neck and follows the Templars out of the room. That’s when he realises that they’re not exactly working on their own recognisance. There’s a desire demon standing in the corridor and the Templars go panting up to it, their eyes wide and unseeing. He flattens himself against the wall and watches warily as the demon issues some more orders. The Templars rush past him and the demon follows at a slow saunter, not even noticing Dorian standing there so close.

He lets out a sigh of relief. The magic in the amulet is strong, strong enough to hide him even from a demon, which means that at least he can act freely. Of course it means he probably can’t ask anyone for help but he’s not sure how much help he’s going to find here.

He heads along the corridor in the opposite direction to the one the demon and Templars were going. It seems safer. He ducks into rooms to look around and very quickly he realises where he is – he’s in a Circle. Probably a southern Circle from the look of it. It’s all very grim, though he’s fairly sure that even a southern Circle shouldn’t have demons wandering around freely.

He’s also starting to develop a nasty suspicion he knows where and when he is. 

Cullen doesn’t talk about Kinloch much. He’s told him enough to know that it was bad. Very bad. That its effects were long-reaching and terrible. That it’s taken a long time for Cullen to come back from it. He’s seen the nightmares, knows not to wake Cullen up from them, knows to keep his distance until Cullen is fully awake, knows not to use magic for an hour or so afterwards. It might have had a chance to drive a wedge between them but he’s also _heard_ those nightmares, heard the way Cullen begs and pleads so brokenly, heard the fear in his voice. He knows that Cullen had been barely nineteen when that had happened, when he’d been ripped apart and forced to try and piece himself back together all alone.

So if he’s right about where and when he is, somewhere in this tower is his lover, trapped and being tortured. 

He pushes off the wall and starts searching with intent. He’s thankful for the amulet more and more as he makes his way up. The demons, the abominations, the blood mages, the possessed and enchanted Templars… none of them can see him. He makes his way up to the highest levels of the tower and he finds himself in an antechamber of some sort. There, finally, is Cullen, trapped behind a magical barrier with about a dozen other Templars.

His eyes fix on Cullen and he wants to smile at the curly blond hair on full display but he can’t. Cullen looks young. Young and scared. There’s an older Templar standing next to Cullen with his hand on his shoulder, murmuring softly to him, presumably trying to bolster his spirits and his courage.

The door at the top of the next set of stairs opens and a mage swaggers down them. He’s accompanied by two other mages and three abominations. It’s actually the first time Dorian has ever seen a mage turned into an abomination. It doesn’t happen often in Tevinter. He’s read about them, which is how he knows what he’s seeing now. They’re horrific to look at.

“Uldred, you bastard!”

It’s one of the older Templars snarling those words and Dorian can see the others subtly pushing Cullen and another of the younger Templars back behind them. Out of sight.

“Oh, Vanion, I hardly think you’re in a position to be tossing insults around,” the mage, Uldred, says with cruel amusement. He looks over the Templars trapped behind the magical barrier and points to some of them. “Those three.”

He turns on his heel and the mages cast spells that knock the Templars out. The abominations move easily through the barrier and grab the three Templars who had been indicated. They drag them up the stairs and into the room beyond. Dorian almost follows them but… can’t. Normally his curiosity gets the better of him in these sorts of situations but this time, he just can’t. He’s seen and heard Cullen’s nightmares and he’s fairly sure he really _doesn’t_ want to know what Uldred is up to.

He chews on his bottom lip for a moment then walks through the barrier, giving a sigh of relief when it doesn’t stop him or affect him in any way. He leans against one of the walls and waits until the Templars rouse from their stunned state. They immediately notice their missing brethren and there is a lot of cursing and a few of them test the barrier again. They get precisely nowhere with that and it confirms Dorian’s assumption it was keyed to only let mages through and that it’s somehow stopping the Templars from using their abilities.

“What’s going to happen to us?”

It’s Cullen and he sounds young and fearful and desperately trying to be brave. The older Templar, Vanion, grips his shoulder tightly.

“We’ll be fine, Cullen. Gregoir will bring the rest of the knights through as soon as he can.”

He’s lying. Dorian knows he’s lying, Vanion knows he’s lying, he’d bet _Cullen_ knows he’s lying but the Templars all act as though it’s the truth. He supposes they have to. It’s that or give in to the fear.

Then the screaming starts.

It’s coming from the room up the stairs and from the reaction of the Templars, it’s coming from those who were dragged up those stairs. Dorian is fervently glad he _didn’t_ go up there. He _does not_ want to know what Uldred is doing. Not at all. 

He looks around and Cullen is _terrified_. Dorian is reminded that Cullen is nineteen right now. Barely a year out of training and he’s been with the Templars since he was thirteen, straight from the farm outside Honnleath. Cullen’s admitted that he wasn’t exactly _innocent_ back then but he was certainly naïve and inexperienced. Why would he be anything else?

“Amatus,” he whispers, wishing he could do something, _anything_ , to help. But he can’t. They don’t see him or hear him and his touch goes unnoticed. All he can do is watch.

So watch he does.

He watches as in ones and twos the rest of the Templars are dragged up those stairs to scream and then go silent until only Cullen is left in that magical prison. The young Templar is frightened but when Uldred comes swaggering down those stairs, he tries to look defiant. Dorian has to admit that it’s a pretty good effort even if it’s wasted on the mad mage.

“Ah, Cullen,” Uldred purrs. “Pretty, pretty Cullen.” 

He moves through the barrier with ease and for every step he takes towards Cullen, the young Templar takes one backward until his back hits the wall with a clank of armour. Uldred smiles cruelly and caresses Cullen’s cheek.

“I couldn’t bring myself to take you upstairs,” he says. “I have a better idea for you.”

Dorian lurches to his feet in sudden anger. He’s seen that sort of look before and he pales at what it means. But Uldred turns away and saunters back through the barrier. He claps his hand and the door to the upper room opens again. This time a desire demon sashays down the stairs and she backs Cullen up against the wall again. She gives him a sultry smile and Dorian winces at the panicked look on Cullen’s face.

“He’s so pretty, Uldred,” the demon croons. 

“Isn’t he?” Uldred chuckles. “Find out all his secrets for me.”

“I’d be delighted,” the demon purrs. 

She caresses Cullen’s face and Dorian wants to scream and rip her hand away, to banish her back to the Fade. But he already knows he won’t be able to do a damn thing. His magic doesn’t work properly here. He’s tried. Instead all he can do is watch as the desire demon yanks Cullen into a horrific parody of a kiss. Cullen struggles against the demon’s hold, distressed noises escaping him, then he goes limp.

The desire demon slowly lowers him to the floor and kneels there with his head in her lap. She brushes her hand through Cullen’s blond curls and Dorian growls with anger.

“Get your damn hands off him!”

The desire demon frowns and looks around for a moment and Dorian holds his breath. Had she heard him? Then she shakes her head and places her hand on Cullen’s forehead. A moment later, the young Templar begins to sweat and twist and turn. He seems unable to escape the hand on his head and soon he starts to whimper. The desire demon smiles beatifically and it seems an age before she finally lowers Cullen’s head to the floor and goes back upstairs.

Dorian falls to his knees besides Cullen’s unconscious body and brushes his hair back gently. “Oh, Amatus,” he breathes. He doesn’t know what to say or do and he nearly falls over when Cullen opens his eyes. They’re full of pain and fear and just for a moment, it seems like Cullen can see him. Then he curls onto his side and starts to sob.

Dorian staggers backwards until he hits the wall and sinks down to sit, stunned and horrified. He knows he should find a way back, that Cullen wouldn’t want him to see what is to come, and he tries. He really _tries_. But even when he pulls the amulet off and tries to dash it onto the stone floor, nothing happens.

The door to the room upstairs opens and a young woman hurries down. She looks frightened and worried.

“Cullen!” she whispers urgently.

Cullen raises his head and he looks startled. “Solona? I…I mean, A…apprentice Amell? I mean…”

The woman smiles weakly and laughs brokenly. “Please… _please_ call me Solona, Cullen. I don’t think I could stand any formality right now.”

“Solona, you have to get out,” Cullen says urgently, clambering to his feet. “Uldred’s gone mad.”

“I know,” she says fearfully. “He had me up there. I just managed to escape. Cullen, you have to help me.”

Dorian is starting to have a nasty suspicion about who or rather _what_ this Solona is but he knows Cullen won’t hear him.

“I can’t get out,” Cullen says, shaking his head. “Only mages and abominations can get through the barrier.”

Solona looks forlorn and she reaches out her hand gingerly until it passes through the barrier. She gasps then runs through the barrier and throws herself into Cullen’s arms. The young Templar looks stunned, rather conflicted and, for a brief moment, happy and _now_ Dorian knows who the desire demon is mimicking. Solona Amell, the Hero of Fereldan. He rarely hears the woman’s name used so he didn’t recognise it but Cullen had mentioned that he knew the Hero, that she’d been an apprentice when he’d been a Templar at Fereldan’s Circle and he’d admitted, while blushing beautifully, that he’d once had a very embarrassing teenage crush on her. A crush that the desire demon was using against him now.

“Oh, Cullen! What are we going to do? I can’t get through the entire tower on my own,” ‘Solona’ says, clutching at Cullen who doesn’t look at all displeased about this turn of events.

Dorian wonders if it’s just Cullen’s youth that’s making him so impossibly _dense_ or whether there are still some lingering effects from whatever it was the desire demon did. He thinks maybe it could be both. 

“Yes, you can,” Cullen says urgently. “You have to. Gregoir needs to know what’s happening and… and you’re an amazing mage, Solona. Even Gregoir admitted he’s never seen such a clean Harrowing.”

Solona blushes and looks up at Cullen coyly. “Did he? I was glad you were there. I know what they wanted you to do but I’m still glad you were there.”

Cullen blushes brilliantly and Dorian grinds his teeth in frustration. Oddly enough, there’s no jealousy in it. He knows, more from things Cullen hasn’t said and the way he phrases those he does, that whatever infatuation he’d had for Solona Amell had died here in the tower, perverted and twisted into something dark and horrible by… well, by things like _this_. So he’s not jealous, he’s just frustrated beyond all measure.

“Cullen, she’s a fucking desire demon!” he yells. “Stop thinking with your dick.”

He almost yells something about being glad Cullen grew out of this stage but then he realises why Cullen grew out of it. Or rather that he _didn’t_ grow out of it, he got shocked out of it by what is happening in front of him.

He whirls around and rests his forehead against the stone wall. He closes his eyes and covers his ears with his hands. He can’t watch it, can’t listen to it. Can’t watch Cullen start to be _broken_.

Cullen’s roar of anger and distress breaks through his attempt to blind and deafen himself and he turns around in time to see the desire demon laughing mockingly from beyond the barrier while Cullen falls to his hands and knees and empties his stomach onto the floor.

“Oh, sweet Cullen, now I’m hurt,” the desire demon croons smugly. She sashays up the stairs. “You’re such a naughty boy.”

The door closes behind her and Cullen staggers over to the wall. He sinks down to the floor and curls up as best as he can in his armour and Dorian hears him start crying.

After that, he stays. He sometimes doesn’t watch and doesn’t listen but he stays. He stays through the desire demon’s continued attempts at seduction, through the rage demons and the despair demons who try their tricks, through the abominations who come down and torture and through Uldred and his pet mages’ occasional appearances to mock and preen. He holds Cullen when he can even though he knows the young Templar can’t feel it and he runs his hands through the Templar’s hair when he starves and dehydrates, when he shivers with the first signs of lyrium withdrawal before they make him beg, before they make him do whatever they want in exchange for food and water and lyrium. As he breaks and shatters. 

As he prays to the Maker to kill him.

Finally it’s the door from _downstairs_ that opens and a small group walks in. Dorian stares at the group of four who walk into the antechamber. It’s Solona Amell and from her armour and her expression, it’s the real one this time. Beside her is a young King Alistair and a young Leliana. There’s an older woman as well, a mage from the look of her, as their fourth.

Cullen’s too far gone to believe easily now but the real Solona gets through to him somehow. Dorian’s heart breaks as he watches Cullen beg the Warden to kill the mages because mages can’t be trusted. The Warden refuses and goes up into the chamber above with her companions. He hears the sounds of combat and then… then the barrier dissolves into nothing. As it does, Dorian feels the amulet around his neck activate again and then he’s surrounded by green light and everything goes dark.

******

When he wakes, he realises he’s lying in a bed and someone is holding his hand loosely. He pries open his eyes and sees that he’s in a private room in the infirmary. Cullen is sleeping beside his bed, sprawled uncomfortably half in a chair and half over Dorian’s bed, Dorian’s hand held loosely in his sleeping hand. He’s not wearing his armour for once and his hair has been allowed to fall into its normal curls, which are almost painful to look at right now.

“Amatus,” he whispers, tightening his hand around Cullen’s. He feels weak and tired but he wants… _needs_ … to see _his_ Cullen again.

Cullen shifts and then starts awake when he realises that Dorian is actually _holding_ his hand. He grimaces as his back twinges but his eyes are full of relief and joy when he looks at Dorian.

“Dorian! You’re awake. Thank the Maker.”

Dorian licks his lips and tugs on Cullen’s hand. “Cullen… please…”

Cullen frowns but lets Dorian pulls him closer. He suddenly understands what Dorian wants and leans forward so that he can press a soft, chaste kiss to Dorian’s lips. Dorian whimpers into the kiss and closes his eyes with relief. He’s home and this Cullen is broken but mended and _his_.

“How long?” Dorian asks when the kiss ends.

“It’s been nearly six weeks,” Cullen says, swallowing hard. “They found you slumped over your research holding an amulet that looked a lot like the one Alexius used.”

That’s when Dorian realises his other hand is still clutching the amulet and he quickly lets go of it. Cullen looks at it with distaste.

“You wouldn’t let go and eventually it was decided to let things run their course.”

Dorian suddenly realises that six weeks would about cover the amount of time he was trapped in the spell the amulet wove. So it moved him… or part of him, not his physical body but perhaps his mind or his soul… back in time and place but nothing else. He realises that Cullen is still speaking and quickly pays attention.

“What did it do?”

Dorian licks his lips and shudders. “I will tell you, Amatus, but not now. Can... can you wait?”

Cullen nods. “If that’s what you need then yes.”

So he does. Dorian tries not to make him wait for too long but the healers keep him in the infirmary for nearly a week before he annoys them enough to let him go. Cullen comes to collect him and at Dorian’s request, they make their way over to Cullen’s office and up into his room above. Dorian strips down before Cullen can say anything and crawls into the bed, surrounding himself with Cullen’s scent. The man watches him for a moment then strips off and climbs into the bed as well. Dorian wraps himself around his lover and lets out a shuddering breath. He’s not sure being naked for this is really a good idea but he _needs_ the skin to skin contact. Needs to _feel_ Cullen against his skin, not through clothes.

“It took me back in time,” Dorian says without any preamble. “And… to somewhere else.”

“Where and when?” Cullen asks curiously.

Dorian is silent for a long, long time then he quietly admits, “Kinloch Hold. About… ten or so years ago.”

Cullen goes very still and Dorian can feel the way Cullen’s heart starts pounding. He starts trembling and Dorian shifts so that he can cradle Cullen’s face in both hands.

“Cullen?” he says shakily.

Cullen swallows. “You… you saw?”

Dorian nods and Cullen’s face fills with shame and pain and despair. Dorian caresses his face with gentle desperate hands.

“No, Amatus,” he pleads. “Whatever you are feeling, whatever you think I feel now, please, you’re probably wrong. Oh, Cullen, you were so brave. You resisted them so well.”

Cullen gives a harsh broken laugh. “I resisted? I nearly gave in so many times.”

“But you _didn’t_ ,” Dorian insists. “I was there. I saw it. You cracked, you broke, yes, but you _never_ gave in. Not _once_.”

Cullen stares at him, eyes wide, searching for something. Something that he obviously finds because his face fills with… relief, absolution, _something_ Dorian can’t quite divine. Then he realises what it is. Cullen was alone for most of what happened and in the last couple of weeks he was having trouble distinguishing reality from whatever nightmares the demons were conjuring up for him. He’s always told himself that, no matter what else happened, he never gave in to the demons but how could he know for sure? How could he trust those memories? 

Now, here is Dorian, a sane outside observer, _confirming_ that. Giving him one thread of truth and sanity in the mess of memories he has of that time. A thread he can hang onto and use to navigate his way through those memories safely. Now he knows for sure. He _never_ gave in. He was broken and shattered but he still held firm, held true to what he was.

Cullen wraps himself around Dorian and buries his face in his shoulder. Dorian holds him tightly in return. Cullen cries silently this time. He shakes and shudders and clings so tightly and Dorian can feel his tears on his skin. He presses a kiss into Cullen’s hair then rests his cheek against his head and murmurs soothing nonsense words. There was a time he would never have done this, too afraid to let someone close enough, to let someone trust him enough to do this. With Cullen, it just feels right.

He doesn’t know how long it is before Cullen’s tears taper off and the shaking fades. He still clings to Dorian, though it’s less desperate and more comforting now. When he finally raises his head, his eyes are red but his face is clear and calm as though some great weight he’s carried for years has finally been lifted and taken away.

“What must you think of me now?” Cullen murmurs.

Dorian gives the faintest breath of a laugh to hear the words he spoke to the Inquisitor echoed back at him. They’re both damaged, he and Cullen. They’ve been broken and pieced themselves back together, imperfectly perhaps but no less beautiful for it.

He cups Cullen’s cheek gently. “I think you’re very brave.”

Cullen blushes and tries to look away but Dorian won’t let him. 

“I understand better now, why you are the man you are,” Dorian says. “A lot of men would have let that drag them down into anger and bitterness, would have used it as an excuse to do horrible things.”

“I did,” Cullen whispers, shame-faced.

“But you climbed back out of that pit again,” Dorian reminds him. “Not many would have the courage or strength to do that. To face what they had become and turn around and be better than that.”

Cullen closes his eyes and makes a sound that’s half a sob. When he opens his eyes again, he manages a tremulous, fragile smile.

“You sound like you admire me.”

Now it’s Dorian’s turn to close his eyes for a moment and when he opens them, he knows what he’s going to say and it doesn’t frighten him anymore. He doesn’t want to run or turn the conversation into something light and flippant. 

He _wants_ to say it.

“Oh, Amatus,” he breathes. “I more than admire you… I love you.”

Cullen makes an inarticulate noise and drags him into a kiss. Dorian goes willingly, feeling all the emotions Cullen is pouring into the kiss and returning them. When they separate, Cullen presses their foreheads together.

“I love you, Dorian,” he whispers. “I love you.”

Dorian smiles. He wishes he didn’t know what had happened to Cullen, he wishes he’d never been there, he wishes he didn’t know things about Cullen that hadn’t been told willingly and freely but if that was the price that had to be paid for them to be here now, well, he would pay it and he suspected Cullen would as well.


End file.
